Mere Words
by SkItZoFrEaK
Summary: Just when Sarah started to get comfortable, her world came crashing down yet again...such a pity.
1. A Lover's Spat

Title: Mere Words  
Author: SkItZoFrEaK  
Description: I have taken the liberty (with permission!) of writing a story based on Amber's 'Say Your Words' and 'When Words Aren't Enough' plotline. I really recommend reading her stories before this one, for a number of reasons. First and foremost, she is an exceptional author. Second, if you don't read at least 'When Words Aren't Enough', then you are definitely not going to understand this humble continuation. And third, who wants to jump into a story when it's already two-thirds told?   
Disclaimers: Here's a toast to all those sneaky lawyer fiends who I'm sure are patrolling the Web right now, waiting for hapless fanfic authors such as myself to forget their legal disclaimers so they can swoop down and gobble them whole. In short - 'No Lawyers. Prosecutors Will Be Violated.'   
Note: Criticism is appreciated. Flames will be used for a weenie roast.   
  
"The wise man is not as clever as you think  
The fool is not as foolish as he appears  
The one who always laughs is not as happy as he pretends  
The story is not as simple as it seems."  
-translated Yiddish verse, 'Der Khokem'  
  
  
Part One  
"Dreaming allows every one of us to be safely insane every night of the week."  
  
'Jareth....'  
  
*Her voice was calling him, from somewhere far away, somewhere he could not reach.* 'Jareth, please...don't be dead....'  
  
*'Sarah? Where are you? I'm not dead, Sarah, I'm here.' He called out, straining to see her-but the chains held him back. Chains? What in the Underground? He pulled, heaving against the barrier with a formidable strength-nothing. *   
  
'Jareth...'  
  
*The call was quieter this time, broken and pained. She was giving up on him! He tried to call out to her again, but now another chain was somehow wrapped tightly around his mouth, too. He growled, this had gone far enough. He called upon his large reserves of power to shatter the chains-  
  
-and a surge of intense, ripping pain slammed into his body in racking waves so hard he thought he would die or go mad that very second-  
  
- a cold, callous laugh resonated in his ears-*  
  
  
Jareth awoke with a jolt, every muscle tensed in his body. He glared around the room, disoriented, shaking, stiff and sore as if he'd been beaten with heavy clubs-  
  
-then, just as suddenly, the room snapped back into focus. He was lying in his own darkened chambers, in his own bed. The clock over the mantle piece read two or three minutes before sunrise, and despite the glowing fire in the hearth the air was cold against his bare skin. The thick blanket had somehow slipped off, leaving his chest and back exposed to the drafts from the pane-less window.   
  
Well, his back, anyway. His chest, he noted with a small half smile, was very well protected by the warm body curled against it. He reached past his wife's sleeping body and pulled the blanket securely around them both. He tried to move carefully, but she stirred and blinked blearily up at him. "Jareth?"  
  
"Good morning."  
  
"'S it morning already?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Sun's not up." She said accusingly.  
  
"I never said it was."  
  
She favored him with a good-natured glower that quickly became more serious as her brain woke up enough to note the fact that he still shivering somewhat. "You cold?"  
  
He hesitated. "No."  
  
"Something wrong?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Liar."  
  
"Hmm." He closed his eyes and lay back, clearly not about to tell her.  
  
"Jareth," she pulled away and propped herself up on her elbow, deliberately not getting the hint. "Don't give me that. What is it?"  
  
"Go to sleep, Sarah," he told her, without bothering to open his eyes.  
  
She paused, struggling to hide a yawn, then tapped his eyelids with her fingers. "Oh no you don't. You're not getting off that easy."  
  
"If I promise to tell you in the morning, will you go to sleep and leave me in peace?"  
  
"Of course."  
  
"Very well then."  
  
There was a small pause.  
  
"Jareth? I'm listening."  
  
He cracked open a blue eye to stare at her. "I thought we made a deal?"  
  
"We did. And as you so graciously pointed out a moment ago-it *is* morning."  
  
The Goblin King opened his other eye and stared at her incredulously. "You sneaky-"  
  
"Now now," she tsked. "Is that any way to speak to a queen?"   
  
"A dream," he told her. "A mere dream. Now-*Your Highness*- let a poor man rest."  
  
"What dream would leave the King of the Goblins in a cold sweat?"  
  
"I wasn't in any such thing."  
  
"Just answer the question, Jareth."  
  
"You are intent on turning this into an argument, aren't you?"  
  
She crossed her arms and tossed her hair in annoyance. Jareth matched her glare for glare, then a glint of something...untrustworthy?...flashed across his face. Uh-oh, Sarah thought. Maybe provoking him this early in the morning wasn't such a good idea. But she couldn't help it-natural curiosity and inherent stubbornness were manifest qualities of her personality.   
  
"Very well." His voice was low and silky-definitely not good- and his smile was even more feral as he regarded her with half closed eyes. "In this dream, you, my dear, were in a great deal of danger and I was unable to get to you." He paused, and his eyes lost the predatory gleam for a brief moment, but when she looked twice, he was focused on her again. "I was willing to pass it off as a disagreeable side effect of the rather poor cuisine tonight-"  
  
"Hey! I know I'm not a five star chef-!"  
  
"-So you should leave the meal-making up to those who are." He cut off her protest smoothly, still smiling. She narrowed her eyes, a retort on the tip of her tongue, but he went on quickly. "As I was saying. I was ready to ignore it as a simple side effect-" he ignored her angry snort- "but now since you've forced me to think about it, I wonder if maybe it isn't some kind of warning."  
  
"Warning for what?"  
  
"Excellent question. And until we find the answer, maybe it would be best if I simply confined you to the castle for a few days." He glanced out the window as the sun came bursting over the horizon. "Hmm, looks like a lovely day, doesn't it?"  
  
"WHAT?!" His wife sat bolt upright as the full impact of his words sank in. "Confine me to- you wouldn't dare!"  
  
"I would. I will. I just did."  
  
"Why you arrogant-"  
  
"Now now," he tsked, with a triumphant smirk. "Is that any way to speak to a king?"  
  
And with that, Jareth rolled out of bed, stretched lazily, and made a dignified if hasty retreat into the bathing chamber before his furious wife could find something to throw.  
  
  
"Don't look so cheerful, my dear. It makes the goblins nervous."  
  
Sarah threw a dark look at her husband's reflection. He smirked back at her over her own reflection's shoulder. She opened her mouth with a well-aimed stab of sarcasm, thought better of it, and put a pin between her lips instead as she concentrated on getting her hair up in a decent style. It took three more pins, but she finally managed to get it firmly secured. There.   
  
"Beautiful," a rich voice murmured in her ear, accompanied by a warm hand caressing the back of her neck; and for a moment she almost - almost - forgave him. Damn it all, it wasn't *fair!* She wasn't asking much, was she? All she wanted was to be furious at him in peace. He could at least give her that, couldn't he?   
  
Jareth smirked. "No." He bent and touched his lips lightly to her face, staring at her eyes in the mirror. She softened briefly, then shook her head in irritation.  
  
"Stop reading my thoughts."  
  
"You think loudly."   
  
She scowled at him, and to let him know just how furious she was, she got up from her vanity table and left the room without so much as one rude retort.   
  
Jareth watched her stalk out, then shook his head and sighed. Stubborn, stubborn, stubborn. And all he'd done was order her to stay in the castle for a few days. Women.   
  
Sarah stomped down the hallway, scattering goblins as she went. How dare he! First he chains her inside her own home-*for some mysterious reason that he won't even tell me* -then he has the gall to walk around and act like everything's all peaches and cream. Jerk, she thought darkly, stomping down hard on the stair she'd come to and repeating the word mentally with every step up. Jerk, jerk, jerk, *Jerk*! There. Now she felt a little better.  
  
"M'Lady?" She turned at the gravelly stutter sound of a goblin voice. A small, hairy creature shuffled up to her.  
  
"Yes?" She put aside her frustration long enough to smile briefly. Ugly, smelly, and stupid as most goblins were, she couldn't find it in her heart to be cruel to them. It wasn't their fault they were the way they were-and sometimes they weren't even all that bad, she though, remembering Hetta and her little son Rilum.  
  
"Uh...er...there's a dwarf an' a fox down inna main hall fer you, Lady." The goblin wrinkled its already considerable creased visage and made a gesture back the way it had come. Sarah nodded in dismissal and made her way through the winding corridors of the castle. A dwarf and a fox come specifically for her could only mean one thing-Hoggle and Sir Didymus. Her black mood lifted a little. Good timing, guys, she thought. I really need an ally right now.   
  
"My lady," a voice cried the minute she entered the room, and she laughed as Didymus swept of his hat in a courtly bow.   
  
"Welcome good sir knight," she curtsied back, then dropped to her knees and planted a kiss on Hoggle's weathered face. "Hi, Hoggle. How'd you know I needed you?"  
  
"I didn't," he said gruffly. "But I just 'eard you had another row with Jareth. Doncha ever give the man some peace?"  
  
"Oh, not you too!" She threw up her hands. "*He's* the one who locked me in here!"  
  
"Dost thou need rescuing, my lady?" Didymus asked uncertainly. "For I will, of course, face great peril for thy sake-"  
  
"No, no, that's alright, Didymus. I don't need rescuing. I just need OUT. Before I strangle my husband. Or better yet-" she grinned one of Jareth's devious grins, "-I'll banish him to the couch until he lets me go!"  
  
Hoggle raised a bushy eyebrow at her.  
  
"Oh, shut up." She grumbled, settling herself cross-legged on the ground. "I'll think of something."  
  
  



	2. Hell Ascends

Part Two  
"The females of all species are most dangerous when they appear to retreat."  
  
The 'something' presented itself a few hours later. Sarah, resigned to her temporary fate, had curled up in one of the spacious window seats overlooking the Goblin City with a good book and a cup of tea. The story was good, but today it wasn't holding her attention too well, and she let her thoughts wander. She idly watched the bustling crowds of goblins below her.   
  
Her eyes drifted from rooftop to rooftop and then along the wall of the city itself...and suddenly snapped back to the rooftop just below her window. It was about a twenty foot drop...but about three feet below the window was a ledge, and about eight feet down another ledge...which would make the drop to the rooftop about nine feet...that wasn't really so bad...if she was very careful...  
  
Jareth's dream...*Oh, come on. It was just a dream; even Jareth was going to dismiss it until I annoyed him.* A flash of frustration flared at the thought-*it wasn't like I did anything wrong! I was just...expressing concern! Of course, I did provoke him-but by that token, he provoked me too! Why didn't he just tell me in the first place?! He had no real cause to lock me in here.* She nodded firmly to herself, mind made up. Right then.   
  
She glanced all around the hallway-no one in sight. Well, what was she waiting for? She'd be back by sunset anyway.   
  
Carefully, she sat on the edge of the window and set her feet on the ledge. Good. It was firm. She hoped the second ledge was too...she wouldn't exactly get a chance to test it. She smoothed her hair back nervously, glad she'd opted for practical clothes today-forest green pants, a light green tunic, leather vest and boots, and her hair was pulled up out of her face. *I would look much more silly dangling here in a dress...not to mention much less decent...*  
  
She sat on the rocky outcropping, feet hanging off into space, and suddenly the rooftop looked MUCH farther away than it had from her safe window...well, no going back now...  
  
She turned slowly, grasping the ledge with her hands, and carefully allowed her body to suspend out into space. Stretched to her full length like this, the second ledge was only about two feet below her feet. And if she missed it when she fell...*it might make me a bit sore for a few days,* she thought dryly, ignoring the fact that if she missed she might well not feel anything. Ever. Again.  
  
With a deep breath, Sarah willed her fingers to let go-  
  
-she fell, scraping against the rough stone wall and then-  
  
-her foot hit the ledge below, she scrambled for purchase with her other foot, and her hands clawed at the wall-  
  
-with a sickening lurch, she felt gravity claim her body, her foot missed the ledge and banged painfully on a smooth stone beneath it-  
-beneath it?!-  
-and with a scream, she toppled and plunged into the empty air-  
-and felt a harsh jolt in her shoulder as her fingers caught the passing ledge.  
  
Sarah found herself dangling by one hand over the remaining space above the rooftop, sporting scraped shins and fingers and a large bruise on her left foot, but alive nonetheless!  
  
With a gasp, she closed her eyes and let herself drop the remaining distance-only a few feet-and came to a jarring landing on the rooftop.  
  
She sat there, stunned for a minute, then gave a shuddering breath of relief. I should have used the pendant, she thought, but then Jareth would have known I was using it, wouldn't he? And besides, once I was falling...I didn't even think about it. I didn't think at all. Well, I certainly have no intention of doing that again.   
  
A few minutes later, she was on the ground (Oh, sweet, wonderful, glorious ground!) and making her way through the shadows of the Goblin City streets toward Hetta's house.  
  
  
"The couch, eh?" Jareth raised an amused eyebrow at the dwarf.   
  
"Well, sir, she's just a bit upset at ye, she'll come around by the end o' the day. Women is always like that." Hoggle shifted uncomfortably. He wasn't really afraid of Jareth anymore, but he was still the King-and Hoggle's commander-and therefore Hoggle was duty-bound to answer his questions. Even when the questions were of a sensitive nature-and Sarah was definitely a delicate subject between Hoggle and Jareth.  
  
"What else did she tell you, then, Hogbrain?"  
  
"Hoggle."  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Well, nothin' really. Just a lot o' ranting an' then asked me about Hetta and how were we all doin'."  
  
"I see. You may go back to your duties, Hoggle, I won't detain you further."  
  
"Uh. Yeah, thanks." Hoggle bobbed his head and made his way out of the chamber. "My duties. Gotta see to them Nightmares," he shuddered a little. "They gets restless sometimes."  
  
Jareth watched him go, and the casual mask faded. He didn't really like confining his wife to the castle, whatever she may think, but the nagging feeling that she was in danger wouldn't leave him. He had scanned the crystal for an hour that morning, searching for a cause to his anxiety-a few fireys were falling to pieces in one of their wild never-ending parties, a snipper-bearer was busy harassing a maze-monster, a few fights among the goblins-but nothing out of the usual. He'd checked on Sarah (reading somewhere) but she seemed fine too. Considerably put out with him, of course-oh, there would be a blazing row this evening, of that he was sure. So then WHAT was bothering him so much? A dream? Really just a simple dream? A dream he'd only had once, to boot. Was he overreacting?  
  
He remembered the sound of Sarah's broken voice, the almost desperate need to get to her, and the sickening flash of pain that had swept over him... Jareth frowned and shook his head like a swimmer resurfacing. No. It wasn't a chance he was willing to take.  
  
He tossed the crystal up and caught it again, staring into its depths...but everything was as it should be...except...  
  
He sat upright in his throne, looking into the crystal with new intensity.  
  
No!  
  
What in the Undergound was *this?*  
  
It couldn't be! There was no way!  
  
It could. There was.  
  
Jareth swore suddenly in every language he knew (which were many) and abruptly the crystal vanished. He surged to his feet, roaring at the top of his lungs. "Guards! Guards! Hoggle! Get in here!" He magically amplified his voice to echo in every corner of the castle and it's grounds, and within minutes the throne room was filled with armored goblins.   
  
"My Lord?" Someone yelled.   
  
"Enemies are flying over the Labyrinth from the south! To arms! Now!" He opened his arms and began to transform into his owl shape - and froze as a cold shadow swept through his body, paralyzing him. He had time for one thought before the darkness claimed him.  
  
Too late.  
  
  



	3. A World Turned

Part Three  
"Just because the water is calm does not mean there are no crocodiles."  
  
She was sitting on the doorstep when it happened, playing a game with Rilum in the afternoon sun. The little goblin boy was much better at this than she was (probably because he was the only one who knew the constantly changing rules) but she was enjoying herself. And her mind was only half on the game anyway. Any second now Jareth would realize she was gone and would come swooping down to take her back. And then would come the fight. Well, he asked for it.  
  
"Queen Sarah?"  
  
"Huh? Oh. Yeah, Rilum?"  
  
"What's that?" The child pointed behind her, toward the sky. Sarah turned, squinting into the sun-  
-and felt her guts turn instantly to ice.  
  
"What the-?"  
  
Huge, ugly flying monsters were swooping through the air, headed straight for the castle. The air seemed to tear in front of them as they screeched and bellowed in a frequency that Sarah knew she shouldn't have been able to hear. The sky darkened as the mass approached, like an ominous, roiling thundercloud.   
Only these monsters, she knew deep in her bones, were capable of much more than mere thunderclaps. These were satan-spawn from hell.  
  
"Wyrms!" Hetta screeched suddenly, running outside and reaching for her son. "Run!"  
  
Goblins in the street were now pointing at the sky screaming in fear as the monsters came nearer. A few beasts landed on the rooftops of the city and began ripping everything into splinters. The rest flew on, and before Sarah could so much as scream, they began attacking the castle itself.  
Sarah stood frozen in horror for a moment, then her hand flew to the pendant she wore around her neck. "I wish those things were dead! All of them!"  
  
In her mind's eye, she saw the wyrms consumed by a sudden wild fire, and then fall dead to the ground in ashy piles. Her physical eyes, however, were not so lucky. The largest wyrm shuddered, and twisted its foul head in her direction-she gulped, waiting for it to fall dead from the sky-but it didn't. It...it...*grew*...  
  
What?  
  
But there was no mistake. The thing had grown. But how? She'd just wished it dead! She gripped the pendant and screamed it again, but all that happened was the ugly creature got even bigger. One of its companions veered away from the castle, headed for her.   
  
Hetta's scream echoed in her ears. "RUN!"  
  
Sarah obeyed this time, and careened down the streets, away from the monster that followed closer and closer behind. She stumbled blindly, and a rough hand appeared from nowhere to grab her hard around the waist.  
  
She was wrenched out of the daylight into a dark hole.  
  
"This way!" A voice hissed, and she recognized it as Hoggle. He pulled her down into the darkness, and she could hear the thing bellow a frustrated screech above. Her eyes adjusted to the shadows, and she realized she was underground somewhere, and judging by the sloping floor, getting further and further down. Something bumped hard against her leg, and she automatically reached down to steady the little goblin. It squealed and disappeared into the crowd of terrified goblins shuffling down into the dark. Sarah felt numb, cold deep down in her body. Her heart was sick...what was going on? What were those...wyrms? Where was everyone going? Where was Jareth?   
  
"Sarah," Hoggle's gruff voice brought her hard back into the dark tunnel. Sarah blinked and realized that he had led her to a large underground cave. There were several more creatures pouring in from openings all around, creatures from all over the labyrinth: brownies and fireys and even the biting fairies flitted through the gloom. The cave was lit by flickering torches, but the atmosphere was far from warm or cheery. Faintly, Sarah could hear crashes and bellows as the monsters rampaged throughout the land.  
  
"My lady?"  
  
"Sarah."  
  
A huge furry hand landed on Sarah's shoulder, and she turned to see Ludo and Sir Didymus behind her. Without a word, she launched herself into Ludo's arms and cried into the shaggy fur.   
  
  
"I tried to wish it away, but it just got bigger, Hoggle! What is going on? What are wyrms and why did they attack us anyway? Why didn't Jareth stop them?"  
  
"Sarah, stop that." Hetta scolded her gently. "You're just workin' yourself into hysterics. Calm down, miss."  
  
"I dunno about yer pendant," Hoggle scratched at his patchwork cap. "Magic ain't my kettle o' fish. But as far as Jareth goes...well, the wyrms shouldn'ta been able to hurt the like o' him. So they musta had something else to deal with him-or someone else, maybe."  
  
"Wyrms are foul creatures from far to the south," Didymus spoke up as Sarah struggled to swallow her tears. "They've never come up here in my lifetime. And they've never traveled in packs before. Ugly monsters. But it matters not why they came! The beasts have perched themselves on the very castle walls! We should charge them now and rid ourselves of their depravity!" He brandished his staff menacingly, but the effect was rather diminished when his steed crouched to the ground whimpering. "Ambrosius! Get up! This is no time to-You're embarrassing me! Ambrosius!"  
  
As the fox struggled with his mount, Hoggle sighed and rubbed his creased eyes. "I don't get it. Why did those monsters come all this way just to rip up a few houses and the sit on the castle walls?"  
  
"Wyrms watching."  
  
"Watching what, Ludo?"   
  
The beast shrugged. "Wyrms watching." He repeated.  
  
"You think they're guarding something? Keeping us out of the castle? Why?"  
  
"I wish I had my crystal," Sarah lamented, and then jumped as it dropped into her lap the next instant.  
  
"Well," Hetta sniffed. "At least we know the pendant ain't entirely broken."  
  
Sarah didn't bother to wonder why it chose now of all times to work. She held up the crystal and stared into it. "Show me Jareth," she whispered, and the crystal shimmered, showing her the Goblin King's unconscious face for a brief instant before the image twisted. A stranger stared out at her, dark eyes glinted maliciously.   
  
"My Lady," the man grated. "Beware."  
  
"Wha...who are you! What have you done to Jareth?!"  
  
"I am Erlar. King Erlar, now. My master has given me these lands as a reward-"  
  
"They aren't his lands to give!" Sarah burst out in rage. "You slimy beast! Get your monsters out of here-"  
  
"My 'monsters', my lady, are here to stay. And so am I. However," the gaze became calculating. "I do not need to be alone in my rule. You are the queen, are you not? If you would prefer we make this a legal change of rule-"  
  
"I would rather die, you pig! No, I'd rather YOU die! I wish you dead!"  
  
He laughed. "Ah, yes, you're wonderful wishes. My master told me of them, but then he gave me the means to avoid it. Your power is based on dreams. MY power is made from nightmares, and nightmares are twisted dreams. "  
  
Sarah dropped the crystal, unable to listen to that sickening hoarse voice. The ball bounced for a moment, then came to rest at her feet, blank as ever.  
  
"Nightmares, eh? Well, that clears up that mystery." Hoggle shook his head. "Every wish you make, he twists into a nightmare. 'S why the wyrms grew when you wished 'em dead and all."  
  
"Queen Sarah! M'Ladyship! You're here! You c'n help us, can'tcha?" A reedy voice rose out of the din, and Sarah recognized one of the goblins from the castle. "You c'n kill the wyrms, can'tcha?"  
  
Several others in the crowd took up the plea, pressing forward toward her. Sarah got shakily to her feet. "Quiet!" It quieted immediately. Even the fairies stopped fluttering agitatedly and hovered nearer to listen.  
  
"I can't wish the wyrms away," a murmur of fear swept through the crowd again, but Sarah held up her hands and it subsided. "But that doesn't mean there's no hope. I will need your help, all of you." She rubbed a hand across her face, and then tugged on Ludo's arm. He helped her climb up on his broad shoulders, so that everyone could see her. "I want guards posted at every entrance, and they will be relieved every two hours. I want the rest of you to set up camp in here, as quietly as you can." She paused, considering. "And I want at least ten of the swiftest, most silent creatures here to act as spies on the castle. We can't do anything unless we know what's going on."  
  
She slid to the ground as the crowd began to break up, fear shunted aside as they found something to distract them. Sarah put Didymus in charge of the volunteers, and Hoggle immediately set up guard rotations at all the cave's entrances. The place had been hewn out of the rock long ago, Sarah learned, when a king before Jareth had waged war with a neighboring dukedom. The creatures of the Labyrinth had no love lost to that king, and rather than fight and die for him they had hidden in this place, waiting for the battles to end. The population had obviously been much smaller then, she decided as she personally oversaw the camp setup. Creatures were jammed in every corner here-and this was only about two thirds of the people! The rest were in the castle when the wyrms had descended-dead or alive, she didn't know. She was too afraid to use the crystal again. Erlar, whoever he was, would know somehow.   
  
Sarah ripped her thoughts away from the castle and its prisoners. She would worry about that one later. Right now, she was more than willing to throw all her concentration into the hectic mess. "You there!" she called over a crowd of goblin housewives. "Put that along the walls of the corridors!" She motioned to an odd black and red creature carrying a huge load of eyeball lichen in its three pairs of arms. The thing nodded (well, it swung its flat, angular head in what looked like a nod) and hop-skipped away towards the corridors on its five mis-matching legs.  
  
She stared at its retreating back, shook herself and turned away. The thing probably thought she was weird, too.  



	4. The Plot Sickens

Part Four  
"To speak of 'mere words' is to speak of 'mere dynamite'."  
  
Jareth awoke slowly, and instantly wanted nothing more than to fall back asleep. But the pain, while enough to keep him properly confused and disoriented, wasn't enough to make him pass out again. Which told him one thing right from the start-whoever his enemy was, he knew his business in the pain department. Not a happy revelation.   
  
Speak of the devil...something (or rather, someone) was moving in the shadows off to his right, gliding smoothly toward him. He made to turn his head, but the chains (chains? Oh, bloody hells, he just *knew* it) prevented him. Cautiously, he pulled and twisted, testing his limits-no, they were all here, just like in the dream. Even his mouth was bound by a heavy metal band. Not iron, thank the fates, iron would have finished him. But not ordinary steel, either. Magic chains to bind him, and though he didn't care to test it, he was pretty sure there was some sort of 'chain' on his thoughts too. At least something that would prevent him from using his powers.  
  
~You are very perceptive, fae.~  
  
Jareth felt a twinge of cold fear at the voice that echoed calmly in his head. He kept his face and posture wary but calm. The voice chuckled dryly, and the figure to accompany it slid into view.  
  
~You.~ Jareth thought.  
  
~Yes. Me. Aren't you happy to see me? It has been a very long time.~  
  
~Too short by half.~  
  
~Pity you feel that way, since you're going to be my company for a while.~   
  
~Where have you brought me?~ Jareth tried again to move his head, but a flash of pain stabbed up his neck, and he closed his eyes briefly, fighting to keep the nausea down. Maybe he had better try to assess just how much damage had been done to his body before he tried anything else.  
  
Then again, maybe he was better off not knowing.  
  
~You aren't in your precious lands, for now that is all you need to know.~   
  
~Why did you bring me here?~  
  
"Well, I couldn't let that fool Erlar have you as his prisoner, now could I?" The man spoke aloud now, in a low soothing voice, as if speaking to a frightened young boy. "He might get silly ideas about draining your power and trying to use it against me. Power mongers always do that sort of thing, eventually. Besides, I think I would enjoy the company for a while."  
  
~I'm afraid I'm in no mood to play gracious guest.~  
  
"Aren't you even interested in watching the fate of your realm played out? I think it would be quite some entertainment."  
  
~What are you talking about?~  
  
"Behold." He flourished an arm at the wall opposite of Jareth, and the Goblin King's eyes narrowed as the wall seemed to ripple like molten glass. It cleared, and he found himself looking at his own throne room, littered with corpses. Several more of his subjects were chained together along the walls of the room, watching the throne with horrified, pitiful stares. Jareth strained his eyes, searching for one body in particular, and praying he wouldn't find it. One of the walls had been knocked in, and a huge knobby black head was leering in through the opening. Its pus-oozing snout rested inches from the foot of the throne itself, upon which sat a small, bony dark featured man, a half-fae from the looks of him. Jareth suppressed a growl as he held up a crystal in his bony hand, surveying it with great relish, though he was holding it carefully. Half-fae, then, for no other creature could hold the thing without it vanishing and no whole fae would worry about popping it.  
  
The image blurred, and they were looking at the outside of the castle, covered in languishing wyrms, ranging in color from black to scaly gray to crusty yellow-brown. All of them were repulsive, scabby monsters that scaled from ten to fifty feet long. They draped their gnarled bodies over walls and ramparts, growling and snapping at each other as they lolled in the setting sun. A few of them flapped up into the sky, and the wall image followed them as they flew to various places in the Labyrinth, to forage, he thought. But apparently the beasts had no other intentions but to merely destroy as much as they could. He bit back a growl in his throat as he watched them rip and burn and lay waste to everything around them. He watched as they flushed out and hunted down several creatures hiding in the remains of the Labyrinth.  
  
Once more the image wavered, and then cleared to show a large underground cavern, full to the brim of bustling creatures. Despite the almost forced activity, the atmosphere was subdued, as if every creature was listening with one ear and watching with one eye for something to come swarming into their mists. The image seemed to fly over them all, searching, and then settled on a small, brunette figure in bright green and leather clothes. It moved closer, and Jareth felt a combination relief and fear contract in his guts. Sarah. Pale. Frightened. Alive.  
  
His captor moved forward. "Interesting," he purred. "Look, my dear fae. That is the true glory of mortals, isn't it? They adapt to situations, especially crisis, with an almost unfathomable speed, and not only adapt, they take charge of the situation. Look at her already, she can't have been down there more than an hour or two." He chuckled again as she marshaled a group of nervously chittering garden gnomes setting up a series of tents and lean-tos. "Head-strong, stubborn, and yet at the same time so quick to bend to circumstance. Interesting."  
  
*Oh, Sarah.* Jareth thought to himself, a quiet kind of despair wrapping around his heart. *If only I could warn you...*  
  
He threw a burning glance at the dark man beside him. *I know what's going to happen now, Sarah, I know a game when I see one. Be careful, Sarah. The powers I gave you are useless against this one. I know. He gave them to me...*  
  
  
"They ain't moved." Hoggle grunted and spat on the floor in disgust. "They just sit there. But yer right on one bit," he waved a hand to Ludo. "They're watchin' that castle alright. I saw a goblin get too close, and then," he snapped his fingers. "Dead, jus' like that."  
  
"So we can't get close to the castle at all?" Sarah handed Ludo a plate with a few mounds of what looked to her like purple tongues, but her hairy friend dug into with relish, offering her one to taste. "No thanks, Ludo. You go ahead. I wished them just for you."  
  
"Sarah eat." He admonished. "Sarah rest."  
  
"Yeah, when was the last time you got some sleep?"  
  
"I'm fine," she told them flatly. "I couldn't sleep anyway, even if I was tired. My mind is too...busy. Oh," she slammed a fist into the stony wall, then jumped back, cradling her bruised fingers. "It isn't FAIR! There has to be a way into the castle. There just has to be. Doesn't anyone know a secret entrance or something? This is the Labyrinth, after all, there's always a secret way in or out."  
  
"They've all been blocked off. Wyrms at every doorway. It's like that Early or whoever knew where they all were." Hetta grumped, bossing her son around their little camp space.  
  
"Erlar," Sarah corrected absently. "There's no way he knows all the entrances. How could he? He's never been here before, and even if he had been, they change too often-"  
  
"Well, he knew anyway, didn't he? That ain't the point."  
  
"What *is* the point?"  
  
"The point, Sarah, is that we can't get in. All the wishes you make against him are just twisted to his advantage."  
  
"So I'm pretty much powerless to stop any of this?"  
  
"I dunno."  
  
"Thanks for nothing, Hoggle."  
  
Abruptly, words from long ago danced into her head, from the first time she'd ever entered the Labyrinth.   
  
~~'You know what your problem is; you take too many things for granted.'  
'That's your opinion.'  
'Well, it's a lot better than yours!'  
'Thanks for nothing, Hogwart.'  
'Oh! It's HOGGLE, and don't say I didn't warn you.' ~~  
  
"Maybe," she muttered. "Just maybe."  
  
"What's that, Sarah?"  
  
"Nothing. You know what, I am kinda tired. I think I'll get a quick rest. And then, we figure out this Erlar guy. Okay?"  
  
"Deal." The dwarf scrambled to his feet and beckoned to his hairy friend. "C'mon, Ludo, let's leave her Highness to 'er rest."  
  
"Don't you dare start with me tonight, Hoggle. I'll...I'll...kiss you!"  
  
"And send me tumbling into the Bog of Eternal Stench again? Ha! Not likely." The dwarf trotted off in mock fear, Ludo lumbering good-naturedly behind.   
  
"Night-night Sarah."  
  
"Good night, Ludo. 'Night, Hoggle." She sighed, watching them fade into the crowd. Above, the fairies were burrowing into the nooks and crannies of the ceiling, the junk people were huddling together, looking like a small junkyard themselves, even the fireys were settling themselves down in boneless heaps around a snapping blaze. Sarah sighed again and wished for a warm, thick blanket, which she wrapped herself in and huddled down in a corner. But she didn't sleep, images, voices, thoughts were swirling madly in her brain, shaking up a mental storm. She saw again the horrible destruction wreaked on the Goblin City and the Labyrinth itself (she had been watching in her crystal, horrified, as the wyrms had plundered and destroyed the place she had come to love so much). But most of all, she saw Jareth, as he had been that morning, smirking down at her.   
  
*I fought with him. I fought with him and then avoided him, and now I might never see him again-*  
  
"He isn't dead," she whispered fiercely, pulling the blanket tighter. I would know if he were dead. We'd all know. He's just trapped somehow. The invader caught him off guard, I bet. If I could just get into the castle!  
  
"I wish..." she trailed off. "Oh, what's the use? My dreams aren't any good against him."  
  
"What dream may fight a nightmare?" She jumped at the wheezy voice, and sat upright, looking around.   
  
"You!"  
  
The Wise Man took no notice of her surprise, though his Hat giggled a little and winked at her. "You were expecting maybe Amber then?" (Sorry, had to do it.)  
  
"I was speaking!" The Wise Man wheezed irritably at his Hat. "Do you mind?"  
  
"No, not at all." the Hat chirped.  
  
"Thank you." The Wise Man harrumphed loudly, and then stated, "A nightmare cannot be fought with a dream; the dream will only become the nightmare. And then we have simply another enemy where once-"  
  
"We did not." The Hat finished.  
  
"We did not," the Wise Man echoed tetchily, rolling his eyes.   
  
"Is this making more sense to you than it is to me?" the Hat asked Sarah.  
  
Sarah expected the Wise Man to snap at his talkative head wear again, but instead all she heard was a gentle snore. Yep, he had fallen asleep again. If only she could that easily.   
  
"Nightmares can't be fought with dreams," she muttered. "Then what can nightmares be fought with?"  
  
Her eyes drooped...hmm...she must be more exhausted than she thought. Well, now that the adrenaline rush had faded off, it was no wonder...dreams cannot fight nightmares...what do you fight nightmares with?...nightmares.....  
  
"Nightmares!" Sarah sat bolt upright so quickly that a small goblin wandering close by jumped and spun around, scrambling away.  
  
"Sarah? You okay there, dear?" Hetta was suddenly by her side, putting a worried gnarled hand to her forehead. "You was screaming about nightmares."  
  
"No, not nightmares. Nightmares!"  
  
"Err......eh?"  
  
Sarah surged to her feet. "Where's Hoggle? I need to talk to him!"  
  
"He's gone out. Down to see what's lefta the Labyrinth. Left while you were sleepin'."  
  
"I've only been sleeping a few minutes at most!"  
  
Hetta eyed her. "You've been out cold fer about five hours."  
  
"Really?" She shook her hands and pulled at tangled brown hair, trying to smooth it back into a ponytail. "Well, where's Didymus? Or one of the other officers?"  
  
"Went with Hoggle or else different places of the Labyrinth. Tryin' to 'assess damages,' he says."  
  
She reached up and clutched her pendant tightly. "I wish Hoggle and Didymus were here! Now."  
  
"Here now, what mischief is this?" Suddenly, a small, irate red fox was sitting casually astride a hairy sheepdog about a foot away. "What sorcery hath brought-Oh, my Lady! Art thou the cause of this?"  
  
"So, yer awake," Hoggle didn't seem surprised at all to find himself standing back in the cavern, despite the fact that two minutes ago he had been balanced precariously on a thin ledge not eight feet above a rioting wyrm...well, given the alternative, maybe it was better to be in the cavern. "Miss me already, didjya?"  
  
She waved an impatient hand at him. "I need to get in touch with the Nightmares."  
  
"The Nightmares...? Oh, yeah. Them." Hoggle's eyes darkened. "Whatcha want with them? Nasty as them things be, even they ain't a match fer the wyrms."  
  
"It's not the wyrms I need them for." Sarah began pacing in the limited space, brow furrowed, deep in thought. "No, them I'll need against Erlar himself, I don't have anything else to throw at him...but how to get past the wyrms? Oh, there has to be a way..."  
  
"Well, ye've got an army, doncha?" Rilum piped up from behind his mother. "Aren't they good fer nothing'?"  
  
"Hush, you," Hetta rounded on him. "And before you even say it, no, ye can't go fight with the army."  
  
"Ma..." Rilum looked disgusted. "I'm almost all grown up now. An' I was a messenger in the war against the Nightmares, weren't I? I can do it!"  
  
"Actually," Sarah cut in, "I only have about half an army. The rest of the goblins are in the castle. Maybe dead. And even if I managed to train all them," she gestured to the mass of creatures, many of whom had never seen battle for blatantly obvious reasons (such as in the case of William the worm, whom Sarah had met on her first trip in the Labyrinth, and his infamous 'Missus'),"they'd never stand a chance against a legion of wyrms. So how do I get my Nightmares past them?" She resumed her pacing.  
  
"While yer running in circles, maybe ye'd like to know what state yer labyrinth is in, Sarah." She froze and turned to look at the dwarf.   
  
"I'm almost afraid to know," she whispered, then shook her head and sat cross-legged in front of him. "But I need to just the same, hmm?"  
  
"Well, my lady," Sir Didymus crouched in the dirt and accepted the plate of roast mouse that Hetta offered him. "The foul fiends have laid waste to all-excepting the Bog where once I stood guard, fulfilling my sacred vow." Didymus paused to crunch hungrily into what looked suspiciously like a crisp mouse-tail.   
  
"I guess the Bog of Eternal Stench was too much even for them." Sarah laughed slightly.   
  
"No such luck," Hoggle sniffed. "The monsters like it in there. You shoulda seen it, about ten of 'em were rolling around in the muck like birds in a puddle. Some of 'em even drank the gunk. O' course, once they roll in the Bog, ol' Erlar won't let 'em back in the castle-can't say I blame 'im there."  
  
"That's disgusting. Not even the *goblins* like the Bog," Sarah wrinkled her nose and set aside the cup of soup Hetta had supplied her with. So much for an appetite.  
  
"It's just the way wyrms are, I guess."  
  
"Ick."  
  
"Now there's a properly royal word," Hoggle waggled his eyebrows comically at her, and she burst into a small fit of giggles.   
  
"Thanks, Hoggle," she told him when she had recovered. "I needed a laugh."  
  
"That's what I thought."  
  
  
"She really is quite remarkable, your lady wife."  
  
Jareth ignored the drawling voice and concentrated on her face. She was staring thoughtfully into space, almost right at him, obviously letting her brain wander as he had taught her. After all, the best ideas often came when you weren't even thinking about the problem.  
  
"She came up with the Nightmare solution a bit faster than I expected-but then, you impressed on her the importance of time, didn't you, my dear fae?"  
  
~You have thirteen hours in which to solve the Labyrinth.~  
  
"I wonder how long it will take her to find her way in?"  
  
*That depends on you - on whether or not you do anything to interfere,* Jareth thought, being careful not to think so that his warden could 'hear' him. Since that first conversation, he had maintained his silence. He wasn't going to give the jailer even that much.   
  
"For one so carefully raised in the art of kingcraft," the voice drawled nearer, "you certainly are being rude. Where are your manners? Won't you even answer a direct question?"  
  
*Not for you,* he thought savagely. *Never for you.*  
  
"Well, I suppose if you'd rather keep your sullen silence, I won't attempt to stop you. The woman is much more interesting, anyway."  



	5. And the Story Plunges On...

Part Five  
"It's not easy taking my problems one at a time when they refuse to get in line!"  
  
*How do I deal with those wyrms?* Sarah gnawed absently on her lip, chin cupped thoughtfully in hand. She was perched somewhat precariously on an out jutting bit of rock a few feet off the ground - giving her a perfect vantage point on the entire cave. Her eyes scanned the masses, and every now and then she'd call out or wave to a certain creature, unconsciously assuming the air of a troubled but competent commander. A queen indeed. Had Jareth been watching at that moment, he would have been proud.   
  
Only half of her brain was worrying about the cave and all her subjects therein (interesting, some tiny portion of her subconscious noticed, how quickly I've begun to think of them as 'my' subjects). The other half was absorbed with her crystal, watching the play of light in its murky depths as she rolled it back and forth in her left hand, tossing and catching it, then holding it close to her face for a minute-then with a sigh, rolling it across her palm. There was a way in that the wyrms hadn't blocked off - it was small dark tunnel under the cellars that she had found on her first visit to the Labyrinth-she coughed a little as she remembered exactly what she'd been doing in the cellars when she'd found the tunnel-looking for one for Jareth's drugged peaches actually.   
  
*Well, that was several years ago,* she thought defensively. *He turned my brother into a goblin. He forced me to stay in the castle as his very unwilling queen. He wasn't exactly on the top of my buddy list. I only wanted revenge. Was that so wrong?*  
  
She grinned sheepishly to herself, but the smile faded as her mind slid back to that day. She'd fallen practically right through the decrepit wooden trap door, had followed the tunnel (dwarven carved, much like this cave) out into the Goblin City. Apparently, Erlar had no idea it was there. Perfect way in.   
  
Unfortunately, secret way in or no, she still had to deal with the wyrms.  
  
At first, she'd thought that if she just killed their master, the wymrs would simply leave. Hetta had crushed that hope. "Wyrms don't work that way. Once they finds a place they likes, they'll stay there destroyin' everything until there ain't nothin' left. It's actually Early up there who's keepin' 'em from ravagin' the whole lands flat. Thank the Labyrinth for small bloody miracles."  
  
"So I have to kill them or drive them off," Sarah had summed up glumly, not thrilled with the idea.   
  
"Ye've got a better chance of killin' 'em."  
  
"Great," Sarah had said, and she said it again now, glaring at the crystal in her palm as if this was all it's fault. "Just great."  
  
"Hey, I remember you! Your head don't come off!"  
  
Sarah jumped and whirled, and promptly fell off the ledge. Scrambling to her feet, she tried to assuage bruised dignity and backside and place the red and orange creature hopping around behind her.   
  
~~"Her head don't come off!"   
"Hey, lady, where you goin' with a head like that?"   
"Come back little lady, you gotta play the game!"~~  
  
"Oh! It's you. I remember you too." She jumped up to her feet as the firey danced a little closer. "Um...I'm glad you made it here safely. Where's your gang?" She glanced around as if expecting a swarm of fireys to descend on her, chattering and throwing body parts around.   
  
"We're havin' a party!" The firey jiggled his feet and gestured back behind him. "You wanna come, lady?"  
  
"My head still doesn't come off," she told him.  
  
"That's okay, we like you anyway," the firey said generously. "You wanna come?"  
  
"No thanks," she told him, smiling. "I've still got some things to do. But maybe later."  
  
"Hey, no problem, man," the firey back-flipped to his hands and waved a long, gangly foot at her. "We're always ready for a party!"  
  
"I know." She watched the creature tumble back to his feet and dance away towards a large crowd of fireys. "Uh-oh," she muttered. "That could be trouble." Fireys usually traveled in small groups of five or six-and even then could be a handful to deal with (she knew from experience), but down here, at least fifty or sixty of the exuberant creatures had gathered, and no firey, no matter how drastic the situation may be, could resist a party when it got together with its friends.   
  
"Definitely trouble," she said, louder this time. "Ludo!"  
  
The beast came rumbling over. "Sarah?"  
  
"Ludo, can you and some of your bigger friends keep an eye on those fireys for me? Keep them as quiet as you can. Please?"  
  
Ludo eyed the mob of laughing fireys, and shuffled one of his massive feet. "Ludo watch." He said at last, obviously not thrilled with the idea. Sarah sighed, understanding perfectly. But there wasn't anyone else who could possibly keep the crazy things under control-except maybe her pendant-but then, she didn't want to start using her powers to control anyone. The fireys could have their little party (assuming nothing got out of hand) for a few hours at least. After all, once she set her slowly forming plan in motion-who knew how many of them would ever dance again?  
  
She grinned as Ludo (aided by several various other creatures who obviously were well aware of the dangers of a rioting firey party) moved into the chittering red and orange crowd. The ginger beast started a little as a leg came flying at his head, followed by a maniacally laughing firey. Ludo plucked the leg from midair and held it out silently for the creature, who waved it back at him ("Thanks, man! Hey, you wanna take off *your* leg?) in gratitude before hopping away to play golf with some other firey's eyeballs.  
  
*Oh yes,* she thought dryly. *I'm going to need a very long nap when all this is over.*  



	6. Caught in the Whirlpool

Part Six  
"In war, there are no unwounded soldiers."  
  
"Master?" Erlar's gravelly voice broke through the images of Sarah shimmering on the enchanted wall, and Jareth watched him wave an irate hand, changing the image from the dark woman to the darker man.   
  
"Yes?"  
  
"Master, I have completed my conquest, but the woman and many of my new subjects are evading me somehow. Please, master, please tell me where they are."   
  
"Now, Erlar," the voice had gone soft and gentle, "Why do you think I would either know or care?"  
  
"But...master, you are wise and great and you know all!"  
  
"Really? That's a nice sentiment, my little foolish slave. A very nice sentiment. And I'm glad you have at least that much intelligence, to recognize greatness when you see it." A hand shot out and wrapped tightly around Erlar's throat, as if the man were standing there in the dark room instead of merely an image on the wall-but mere image or not-Erlar was still turning an odd shade of purple...  
  
"Yes, Erlar, I know where the woman and her little subjects are. However, I have no intention of gift-wrapping them for you and your beasts. Prove your worth and find them yourself, Erlar, else I shall think I placed a ninny on the throne. Paint this kingdom in blood, Erlar, and bring me the woman in chains, and then I shall reward you beyond your limited, greedy dreams."  
  
The hand loosened, Erlar made an odd choking noise, and the image faded away.   
  
"There. That should keep the fool busy for a while. Now then, on to business. As much as I enjoy watching this little game, I have other things in mind."  
  
~Bastard.~ Jareth mentally spat, breaking his silence (not literally-the metal band was still firmly in place over his mouth).  
  
"Oh, so you are speaking to me after all. Excellent. Pouting really doesn't become you, my dear fae."  
  
~Stop calling me that.~  
  
"My, my, Jareth, calm yourself! Do you hate me that much?"  
  
~I will kill you with my bare hands.~  
  
"Trust me, my boy, I've lost no love on you either. But let's leave the past be for now, shall we? I've a much more entertaining idea." He turned, and made a small, almost imperceptible gesture with his hand.   
  
The wall focused on Sarah again...but different this time. She was standing in a dark hallway, a little fairy perched on her shoulder, glowing nervously. Jareth's eyebrows rose in surprise. How in the Underground had she convinced one of the annoying little pests to actually cooperate with her?  
  
Cooperate with her it did, though. It was lending her its body light to show Sarah the way down the tunnel - the latter pausing every now and again to let the fairy flit ahead for a brief look around, then flying back to give her some kind of all-clear sign. She was still dressed in the green and leather clothes, but a heavy black cape engulfed her body and his her face in a deep hood, and when she lifted a hand to make some signal to the fairy, he saw the brief glint of light on the sword hanging at her hip.   
  
The image swiveled to look behind her, and in the dark Jareth could see several shifting shapes carefully moving from shadow to shadow-Nightmares, following their queen.  
  
"Well, well. It looks like she's found a way in. At least she's stopped wishing for you to come and make everything right. The chains would never allow it." He gestured lazily to the bindings still holding Jareth as tightly as ever. "Poor, stupid Erlar. He's in for a rather nasty shock, don't you agree?"  
  
Jareth ignored the man, eyes fixed on the cloaked figure moving silently through the tunnel.   
  
"I wonder what's she going to do about the wyrms?"  
  
As if she had heard him, Sarah froze, reaching up a hand to mask the fairy's glowing body. The little creature slipped into the hood of her cloak; effectively hiding it's light from anything that might be coming down the hallway.  
  
But Sarah wasn't looking at the tunnel, she was staring up at the ceiling-and as the silence of the corridor lengthened, Jareth heard it too, the faint sounds of screams and bellows.  
  
"Set the goblins on them," the voice murmured. "Alone? That's suicide. I expected better." The image brightened as it left the dark tunnel and traveled up to the surface, right to the castle courtyards. Jareth could see Erlar standing dumbstruck, staring out of the gaping hole in the throne room, watching his wyrms...burn?  
  
"Ah ha! So that is what she's done! Brilliant."  
  
The goblins were launching large balls of what looked like pure fire at the wyrms, the flames caught the oily residues on their scabby skin (which had been further enhanced by their long wallows in the Bog of Eternal Stench) and was setting the beasts instantly alight. They writhed, on the ground, in the air, bellowing and rolling, but to no avail, their own putrescence was fuel to the raging fire, and one by one, the twitching bodies stopped their madcap, grotesque dance and fell still. Goblins ran between the burning bodies, avoiding those still moving as best they could, trying to kill those still left in the air and at the same time douse the fires the beasts' struggles had begun on the houses. It looked, to Jareth's eyes, as if the whole Labyrinth was burning.   
  
The image darkened again, and Sarah was no longer in a dark corridor but stealthily making her way up the stairs that Jareth knew led to the throne room. Behind her came the horrific Nightmares, and even in his state of shock, Jareth had to grin a little. Erlar thought the wyrms were suffering? He hadn't come face to face with the Queen of Goblins. He hadn't seen anything yet.  
  
  
She moved carefully through the abandoned castle hallways, racking her brains and hoping against hope she was going the right way. The castle was huge, and despite all the time she'd spent it in it, it was still a very easy place to get lost in. Behind her, the small band of Nightmares she'd assembled for this task were shifting and hissing in anticipation. They could hear the battle outside as well as she - perhaps better - and being so close to carnage was making them edgy. It was making her ill, personally. She didn't even want to imagine what the grounds must look like outside.   
  
The idea had hit her as she'd watched the fireys' wild party. She'd been drawn to the large bonfire they'd built in the center of the cave, and suddenly the image she'd seen in her mind when she'd wished the wyrms all dead (the picture of them all bursting into flame) had sprung back to her eye.   
  
The wyrms had harsh, twisted bodies that resembled pus covered stone rather than flesh.  
  
But then, if the fire was hot enough, even stone could burn.   
  
She'd formulated her plan carefully, had summoned some of the most ingenious creatures she had (the dryads had been the most helpful with their intimate knowledge of how mechanical things such as dams and watermills worked, after all, most of them had lived in or under one at some point). It had taken all the rest of that day and most of that night, but every creature with enough brains and ability to even grasp the simplest idea had pitched in, and by dawn, twelve sturdy fire launchers had been assembled. She'd provided an unending supply of special black pitch balls for ammunition, all it took was the slightest hint of fire and the balls would flame hot enough to char wyrm flesh. Which of course was the whole point.  
  
It sounded like her little army was putting the weapon to good use. With any luck, they'd down every wyrm and not lose one soldier themselves. She hadn't dared to wish for their safety, not with Erlar still alive.  
  
Erlar.   
  
The enemy. The reason she was here.   
  
A Nightmare grunted behind her, and she realized they had come to the heavy iron and wood doors that led to the throne room. Sarah took a deep breath, gulping hard, as she raised her hand to halt the little procession. *Here we go. We're almost there, Jareth.*   
  
"Go," she whispered, and at her word, the Nightmares erupted into a screaming, rampaging mass. They flew at the large doors, and with inhuman strength had burst through the entrance and were plunging into the throne room.   
  
Erlar was on the opposite side, watching the battle outside with wide eyes. He turned as the door shattered and the screaming demons came pouring in- Sarah turned away just before the first one reached him. There was a brief flash of light - he had tried one of his spells to warp Sarah's creatures to his own benefit - but it was no use. "You can't twist them into nightmares," she whispered over the gurgling cry of the doomed man. "They already are."  
  
Long chains of goblins were attached to the wall, looking gaunt and bloody from their imprisonment. She moved toward them, intent on releasing them, when something caught her eye. She swung around immediately.   
  
"Jareth!"  



	7. Storm Clouds Gather

Part Seven  
"Romeo, Oh Romeo, where the hell are you, Romeo?!"  
  
Jareth blinked, then again, but there was no mistaking it. There he was, chained against the side of the throne, and yet - still in the dark room - *a mirage* he thought - ~*a mirage! Sarah, it's an illusion! Don't!*~  
  
"No use," the voice chuckled. "She can't hear you."  
  
Sarah was running for the false Jareth, ignoring everything else with the determined single-mindedness that had won her back her baby brother so long ago-  
  
-*Sarah, NO!*-  
  
A huge, black head burst through the crumbling wall of the room, aiming straight for the woman, who skid to a stop as she saw it coming, too late, too late-  
  
With a howl, a Nightmare was upon it, jaws fastened like a steel trap to the monster's eye, purple blood oozing from the wound as the wyrm screamed and pulled it's head out again. Two more Nightmares dove for it, attaching themselves to its snout and throat, keening their angry scream as it shook its head like a hideous dog-  
  
-and burst into flame, as one of the goblin fireballs hit it square in the chest. The three Nightmares hung on doggedly, even when their own bodies caught fire, even when the monster they held began to fall-  
  
-Sarah ripped her eyes away and focused again on the figure by the throne. Vaguely, she was aware of her Nightmares ripping the chains from the goblins-she'd given them orders to free the goblins but not harm them-she was aware of the slowly diminishing wyrm screams being replaced by goblin shouts for water and sand, to put out the blazing corpses before they burned the city to ashes-she was aware of other creatures' voices added to the mad cacophony as the rest of the Labyrinth creatures erupted from the cavern to help defeat the last of the invaders-  
  
-but all that mattered was Jareth. He looked horrible, bruises and smears of blood and dirt, chains covering practically every inch of his body. She didn't care. He was alive! ALIVE!  
  
"Jareth," she screamed and launched herself at him, she reached out with her fingers-but an instant before she touched him, only a heartbeat before she could just...*touch* him...  
  
Gone!  
  
"Jareth!"  
  
But it was no use. She feel to her knees where he had been, so real and solid a minute ago, but nothing now. Just air. Jareth...Sarah closed her eyes and let a sob choke its way out of her. She'd been so close...  
  
"Lady...Creator..." A voice rasped tentatively behind her, and she managed to lift her head enough to find the room was still, that the moans and cries of the wyrms had stopped at last-that every creature was frozen, looking at her. One of the Nightmares stepped closer, blood from the late Erlar still dripping down his twisted jaws. "My creator," he growled. "Our job is finished?"  
  
"Y...yes. You may...may go." She struggled to control herself; this was no time to fall to pieces. She'd do that soon enough.  
  
The Nightmare hesitated.   
  
"What?"   
  
"My creator...my brethren and I are still...hungry. We have not feasted on a kill for a long time-"  
  
"Eat the wyrms, then," she said tiredly, climbing to her feet. "We needed a way to clear their corpses anyway."  
  
The Nightmare bowed before her, touching his forehead to the ground. "Thank you, my creator."  
  
She nodded woodenly and watched the beasts, monsters of her own making, clamber eagerly out of the throne room, headed for the courtyard strewn with what they saw as a delicious feast. She felt sick. "You," she said quietly to the remaining goblins. "Go down into the city. The other creatures will aid you, if they can. Go."  
  
Silently, solemnly, they went, crawling, hobbling, limping as best they could out of the ravaged throne room. Only one remained, a hairy, stunted little boy goblin with a broken leg. She stared at him, knowing what she-as Queen-ought to do. But also wanting desperately to cast herself on the throne room floor and sob her heart out-wanting just once to be Sarah crying for Jareth, crying for the horror she had seen, just a simple woman reeling in her own grief. She looked again at the shuddering goblin, and her mind's eye superimposed a picture of Rilum-she shook her head hard to clear away the thought.   
  
Her face set suddenly, she bowed her head briefly, as a sovereign acknowledging her duty does. Then she bent down and scooped up the pitiful bundle. Black cloak flowing behind her, she strode purposefully from the room, the Queen of the Goblins attending to her subjects' needs.  
  
  
~HOW COULD YOU??!!~ Jareth threw himself against the chains, screaming in rage. ~HOW DARE YOU TO DO THAT TO HER?!~  
  
"Calm yourself, fae, else I shall knock you unconscious again."  
  
~DAMN YOU,~ Jareth bellowed, ignoring the warning. In a fit of rage, he summoned a bolt of pure power from somewhere deep in his being and threw it full force at the dark man before him.  
  
A blast of pain knocked into him so quickly, he didn't even have time to realize what was happening before he was slumped on the floor.   
  
He came to a few minutes later, aching in every atom of his body, sick to his very stomach. He opened blurry eyes to see his captor kneeling on the ground before him, breathing hard as he rocked back and forth. "I...warned you..." he gasped, the silk gone from his voice. "I told you...the chains are not merely physical..."  
  
~But I hurt you nonetheless.~  
  
"Yes. But at a great price, fae. At a great price. You will suffer more for this act than any ever have at my hand. Still, I am somewhat proud of you. Despite the mind chain you still got in a blow at me. Very impressive. Don't get arrogant about it, though. I'm not going to allow it again." He pushed himself to his feet, moved towards Jareth. Something glinted in his hand, cold with the kind of cruel magic that could rip a creatures soul in half. Jareth watched him advance with the evil device, ice flooding the pit of his stomach.  
  
"You are going to regret your brief triumph."  



	8. The End...?

Part Eight  
"Knowing how to win is only a part. We must know what to do with our victories."  
  
"Sarah?"  
  
"He was here...here, Hetta. And I lost him..." Sarah's face crumpled again, and she tried to smooth it less successfully than before. A cool breeze flowed in from the shattered window. The sun was setting outside, the sky was red as blood, as red as the bodies heaped haphazardly around the castle and city, as red as the glinting eyes of the feasting Nightmares. Sarah shuddered violently, and willed herself not to think about the scenes outside the throne room. Not to think about the throne room itself, either- Erlar's body had been removed, but his death stench and that of his monstrous servants remained.   
  
"Oh, Sarah, m'dear." Hetta hobbled across the wrecked throne room and let the woman collapse into her gnarled arms, sobs flowing freely from her now. "Don't worry. He ain't dead, that we know. We just gotta find 'im, is all."  
  
"How do you know?" She demanded, pulling back suddenly. "How do you know he isn't dead?"  
  
"The Labyrinth would tell us-"  
  
"The Labyrinth," Sarah jabbed a finger at the missing wall, indicating the scorched, brutalized lands beyond, "is half gone! It's too busy dying itself to be any good indication."  
  
"Which is exactly why ye need to stop cryin' and get busy fixin' it!" A new voice snapped.   
  
Sarah whirled, "You of all people I thought would be compassionate!" She all but screamed. Hoggle winced, but kept his weathered face firm.  
  
"The Labyrinth is dyin', ye said it yourself. You don't have time to feel bad fer yourself. You have to stop the decay now before it all disappears forever!" He scowled at her, hating himself deep inside for his callousness-but it was true. The Labyrinth was dying, and Sarah alone could save it. She needed to be pushed, Hoggle was there to push her-he'd make it up to her later, he'd grovel for forgiveness if he had to. But now it was time to play rough.  
  
Sarah opened her mouth to screech something inexcusably vulgar at him, then shut it again and closed her eyes. He was right. She had to start the rebuilding now, before anything else could be lost. Jareth would expect no less of her.  
  
She wrapped her hands around the pendant and sank to her knees.  
  
"Now see what'cha've done, you big lummox," Hetta snapped at her brother in alarm, running to Sarah's side.   
  
"I'm sorry, Sarah," Hoggle whispered. "But it's gotta be done."  
  
"I know," her voice was faint. "I know." She bowed her head. "I wish..." (*I wish Jareth were here*)... "I wish the City would be rebuilt, all the houses and buildings and streets repaired..."  
  
Outside, cries of relief and surprise floated up, as the goblins suddenly found themselves standing in the midst of their city. A few Nightmares could be heard too, as the corpses they'd been gorging on vanished. But Sarah merely pictured the Nightmares back at their usual posts around the Labyrinth, and suddenly, there they were.  
  
"I wish the castle were repaired." Sarah heard Hetta and Hoggle cough as clouds of dust kicked up and swirled around crazily, as rocks and beams lifted from the ground to re-meld with the walls and ceilings.  
  
"I wish," she said loudly, "That the Labyrinth was restored the way it was before Erlar."  
  
She opened her eyes, and found herself staring into Hetta's worried eyes. "It didn't work," the goblin woman said softly. "That last wish didn't work."  
  
"Why not?" Sarah glared out the restored window, but the view hadn't altered. Wasteland as far as she could see. "Why NOT?" She scowled with all her might, and felt the beginnings of a very childish and possibly very destructive temper tantrum coming on. It was all *phenomenally* unfair.  
  
"Things can't go back to the way they was before this happened." Hoggle said reasonably from behind. "Even in the Aboveground, things that change don't go back exactly the way they was."  
  
"Alright then," Sarah took a deep breath. "I wish the Labyrinth would heal itself, that the mazes and plants and soil would heal, right now."  
  
There was a soft whooshing sound, as if the land itself were exhaling gently. The sound grew louder, and a breeze brushed her grimy hair away from her face. Sarah stared wide-eyed in wonder, everything forgotten, as she watched the land reborn.   
  
Plants were springing up from the ground like a time-lapse video, so fast they were causing the air to stir. Far below, she could hear Ludo, and what sounded like several others of his kind, calling in that haunting, melodic song. The sound rose into the air, resonating so densely it was almost tangible. The rocks responded, rolling across the earth to rebuild themselves into walls and even - Sarah gasped in wonder - a rugged mountain range just outside the outer Labyrinth wall - especially jagged, she noticed, along the southern borders of the kingdom. A green gauze veil seemed to slide over the black formation, smoothing the harsh edges with a soft cloak of green trees.  
  
Water burst out of the parched grounds in jets and streams, flowing into streams and rivers, and she knew, secret underground lakes. She could feel the Labyrinth, like a living, breathing being, growing larger and wilder, more untamed than it had been before- the swamps and forests re-grew, in crazy places. And as she watched, the newly formed mountains seemed to shudder, and then a vast waterfall erupted over the peak of one mountain, crashing down in rainbow magnificence. Even from as far away as the castle, Sarah could hear rushing whispers of the water as it hit the stones below and began to form a lake at the base.  
  
The newly risen moon glowed softly on the falls, turning them to liquid silver. A nightingale sang somewhere, and the whole world seemed to shine with magnificence.  
  
"It's beautiful," she breathed, enchanted, and she heard a small sob from beside her. "Hetta?"  
  
"You...you did it, Sarah. You made this...oh, my girl, it's glorious." Hetta buried her face in her sleeve, crying still.  
  
"But...it isn't all healed, yet," Sarah frowned. "I can feel it...it hasn't recovered yet. Something is missing."  
  
"Jareth," Hoggle muttered, wiping a few stray tears from his wrinkled face hastily. "Ain't no good without 'im. He's a big part of the Labyrinth, it'll just die without 'im."  
  
"But where is he, Hoggle? He isn't here, and I'm starting to think he was never here to begin with."  
  
"You think it was some kind of illusion, then?"  
  
"Maybe. Oh, I don't know. I don't know! I just want...I wish...Oh, it's not fair." Sarah slumped again to her knees.   
  
"Wish him back, then."  
  
"I can't." Sarah choked. "I tried." She sat crouched on the floor for a few more timeless moments, misery and exhaustion in every line of her body. She squeezed her eyes tightly for a few seconds, then forced herself to her feet one last time. "I'll find you again." Her eyes were still closed, her voice was low-but those who were close enough heard the fierce resolve flowing like magma in her words-and shuddered.  
  
  
"Beautiful, indeed."  
  
Jareth raised burning eyes to stare at the wall across from him, drinking in the images of the Labyrinth re-growing, flourishing-watching the triumphant way it thrived on the energy of his wife's simple command.  
  
"She dreamed that up, and then made it so," the voice had reverted to its natural honey-sweet purr. "I am quite proud of her. Aren't you?"  
  
Jareth gave no reply. He couldn't.  
  



	9. The Beginning of the End

Part Nine  
"Not only is a woman's work never done-the definition keeps changing."  
  
Two days, she thought incredulously. Two short days, and they feel like eternity.   
  
She lay sprawled on her back, in her and Jareth's chambers, on the floor no less, because she didn't want to get her bloody, grimy clothes all over the still-clean bed, but didn't have the energy to clean herself up either. The floor was comfortable enough anyway, for one as tired as she.   
  
Outside the window, she could hear Sir Didymus's sharp voice issuing commands, marshaling the remaining creatures back into the Labyrinth, and running the impromptu hospital they had set up for the wounded. Sarah wanted to wish all their pain away-but the work she had done already had left her with barely the energy to stand. She would have to let them heal the natural way-for heal they all would.   
  
And she couldn't bring back the dead, anyway.  
  
Dead.   
  
No.  
  
She closed her eyes and pushed that thought away. He wasn't dead! Jareth was far too powerful-not to mention FAR too stubborn- to die. He was fae, for goodness sake! Could they even die?   
  
*They can be killed just like the rest of us.*  
  
"Oh, Jareth," she whispered, curling into a ball of misery. "Please...don't be dead."  
  
  
He was torn, watching her. A single tear wormed its way out of his brown eye and traveled sluggishly down his face. Even the monster beside him couldn't seem to find the temerity to mock him, not in the face of this. Jareth's kind, old as they were, as much as they had seen, were unfamiliar with passion-his own love for Sarah had nearly startled the wits out of him-and his captor hadn't even felt pale emotions like resentment or frustration for years. Watching this was completely mystifying the old fiend.   
  
"Such pain," he whispered, and Jareth wanted to strangle him for causing this.  
  
"I wish Jareth were here," Sarah's voice drowned out whatever the fiend had been going to say. She swallowed, shut her eyes and let loose a harsh sob. "I wish I knew why you don't come."  
  
Abruptly, her eyes snapped open, and she thrust herself up into a sitting position. Her breathing had gone very still, she looked very much like deer that had just scented a hunter-at the exact moment the hunter draws back the bow.  
  
"Oh dear," Jareth's warden muttered. "That's done it."  
  
Before either man could react, Sarah touched the pendant at her neck and cried, "I wish I was with you!"  
  
There was small thunderclap, the result of a large amount of air whooshing in to fill the empty space Sarah left behind when her body vanished.   
  
And then the empty room was silent.  
  
  
The first thing she was aware of was the stone floor beneath her. In her room, the stone was warm, sun-baked, and friendly. The stone beneath her now was cold and dank, the rough surface pushing into her skin. She sat up quickly, blinking as her eyes fought to adjust to the sudden gloom.   
  
Off to the side, she heard the rustle of cloth being drawn over stone, and in a flash she was on her feet, face turned toward the sound. She squinted into the shadows, but all she could make out was a very dim outline.   
  
"*Well*" a voice purred. "Whatever have we here?"  
  
Sarah gasped as a piece of ice slid down her back. That voice...so familiar, and yet, so alien...  
  
"Jareth?"  
  
"Oh no, my dear. Not quite."  
  
"Who are you?"  
  
He slid closer, and Sarah froze as his face came into view.   
  
It wasn't Jareth...and yet, somehow, it WAS. The man (fae, actually, a part of her mind corrected absently) had the same spiky blonde hair, the same lean body, the same angular facial bones (but didn't all fae have that look to them?)...but his face was older, streaks of gray ran through his hair (so light you could barely see them), and his eyes-glittery black eyes that seemed to be looking through her very soul...  
  
"I," he said slowly, savoring the words, "am Obadiah."  
  
"You...you are...somehow..."  
  
"Related to your precious Jareth? Very good, my lady. You are exceptionally bright for a mortal. I can see why he chose you for his queen."   
  
Sarah followed the man's nod, and her heart skipped a beat.  
  
"Oh, go ahead. He's real, this time, I assure you."  
  
With a small, strangled cry, she ran to his side, kneeling down on the cold stone to look into his battered face. "Jareth..."  
  
He raised his head slowly, and the stiffness was enough to make her cry...no, she'd done plenty crying of late.  
  
Now she was just plain MAD.  
  
"You!" She stormed to her feet. "You bloody-"  
  
"Ah ah ah. Language! And here I just finished calling you a queen!"  
  
"Let him go!"  
  
"No, not just yet. First I have a slight business proposition."  
  
"No."  
  
"You haven't even heard it yet."  
  
"The answer is still no. I refuse to make any bargains with you. You WILL give me back my husband, and then you will get as far away from the Labyrinth as your feet or magic can carry you. And you WILL do it NOW." She probably sounded like a willful child to this ancient fae, but Sarah was far beyond caring. She was tired, she was angry, she was at her rope's end.   
  
Obadiah chuckled. "Listen to this!" he told the air in amusement. "A mere mortal child telling the brother of King Oberon himself what to do and how to do it! You're very funny, my lady."  
  
Sarah didn't answer him, her mind was working furiously. "I'm getting tired of you," she told the chortling fae shortly. "Stop wasting my time and get on with it."  
  
"I think, Your Ladyship, that you are in more serious need of etiquette lessons than my son."  
  
Sarah leaned forward to retort, then stopped in mid-breath. "Your son?"  
  
"Yes. My son." And he nodded again to the shackled figure on the wall.  
  
"You did this to your own SON?" Sarah felt like gagging. This was worse than the wyrms. This was...an abomination.  
  
"Yes. Oh, don't look so shocked, girl. Surely you knew that the fae hold very little stock in 'family.' It doesn't matter to me if Jareth is my son or not. Although, admittedly, I am rather more proud of him than his bastard half brother." He waved at the wall behind her, which shimmered and formed the image of a small, dark half-fae. Erlar. Sarah jumped away from the image, appalled.   
"You mortals," Obadiah scoffed. "So attached to your blood kin. It's one of the curses of short lives, I suppose."  
  
"As opposed to the curses of your long one, I think I'd rather be mortal!" Sarah snapped, and with one last wayward mental wish, she unsheathed her sword and lunged for the monster. She moved faster than he had thought a mortal could, and in a blink had the sword hilt deep into his belly.  
  
"Oh, tut tut, Sarah," he drawled idly, "You can't really expect to strike down one as old and powerful as I with a mere bit of steel?"  
  
"No," she gritted. An odd, lopsided smile warped her face. "Not steel. I made an...alteration."  
  
He opened his mouth to answer her, and his lips twisted strangely. The words died in his throat, and Sarah jumped away from him as he began to thrash blindly. She turned her back again, and knelt back at Jareth's side, wrapping her arms around his body and burying her face in his hair. His eyes were closed, but she knew he was awake, and neither of them would ever forget the raging screams of the dying fae as the iron sword spread its bane through his body.  
  
When the sounds faded, the tower shuddered, and two seconds before it could collapse completely, Sarah touched her pendant (and Jareth's for good measure) and wished them home.  
  
  
She opened her eyes carefully, and laughed hoarsely with relief when she found herself on the floor, entangled in the bruised and battered limbs of the Goblin King-who, for the record, was out cold.  



	10. The End of The End

Part Ten  
"I don't know if this is the best of times or the worst of times, but I can assure you this: these are the only times you got."  
  
"How come cool stuff like this never happens when I come to visit?" Toby demanded, crossing his arms and sighing tragically. Sarah grinned and threw a pillow at him.   
  
"Who said it was cool? I'd be thankful I wasn't there, if I were you."  
  
"If you were me and I was you, would I be me as you?" Toby chanted the old riddle and threw the pillow back. Sarah plucked it from the air, shoved it behind her back and closed her eyes.   
  
"I'm glad it all worked out anyway," Toby told his sister, crawling across the floor to put his head in her lap. "You were real brave, huh?"  
  
"Believe me, I wasn't trying to be a hero." She brushed a few wayward locks of blonde hair flat, and chuckled as they only sprang up again.   
  
"So then what happened?" Toby sat up. "After you got home again? What happened?"  
  
"We slept."  
  
"On the floor?"  
  
"Yep. Best sleep I've ever gotten, too. Didn't feel as wonderful once I woke up," she laughed. "Oh, I was sore from that one for quite a while."  
  
"I still am," a dry voice said from behind.  
  
"Oh, hey Jareth." Toby jumped to his feet. "Aw, you don't look so bad," he said, and then flushed as he realized what he'd said. "I mean, I'm sure it was bad, Sarah told me all about the cuts and stuff, I guess ol' Oba-whassissname tortured you and all-which is real cool-well, not real cool for you, and I mean, I don't think it's so great and all and I'm glad your alive, I just thought you'd be a lot more beat up and stuff, you know, considering, but I guess you heal fast, huh?"  
  
Jareth nodded, secretly amazed that such a small child could have such a large lung capacity. He didn't think Toby took a single breath in that entire monologue.  
  
"Oh, well that's good. Um, you gonna take Sarah back now? She's only been here a coupla hours. I still gotta tell her about my history project, I got best in the class! And she hasn't told me all the rest of the story yet. I mean, whatcha been doing since you fixed the Labyrinth and everything?"  
  
Sarah tilted her head back to look up at her husband, amusement shining in her eyes. He returned the look, and then quirked an eyebrow at her. She flushed and immediately ducked her head to swallow the sudden burst of giggles. Jareth's grin somehow managed to get even more devious, and he knelt swiftly to wrap his arms around her and lift her to her feet. He glanced at the confused Toby and muttered, "Making up."  
  
Toby looked at the laughing couple, shook his head, and mumbled "Adults." But he let Sarah hug him tightly, and allowed Jareth to muss his hair (he hated it when anyone else did that, but, well, he figured Jareth was cool, so it was okay), and made Sarah promise to visit again soon.  
  
"I will," she told him, and let Jareth wrap his arms around her.  
  
"Toby!" His mom called from downstairs. "Bedtime!"  
  
"Okay," he yelled through the door, and when he turned around again, his room was empty.  
  
  
"You really are a devil," Sarah told Jareth, back in their room at the castle.   
  
"This comes as a surprise to you?"  
  
"No." She stretched lazily. "But speaking of surprises..." She trailed off with a yawn, and turned to lean casually against the window, breathing in the scented night air.  
  
"I would assume," he said from behind, "that by that you are implying you *have* a surprise for me."  
  
"You would assume correctly."  
  
"I would also assume that you are going to tell me what this surprise is?"  
  
"My, you're getting good at this, aren't you?" She smiled sweetly at him, and turned to leave the room.   
  
He caught her just before she reached the door, seizing her by the waist and holding her firmly in place. "You are giving me gray hair before my time."  
  
"Makes you look distinguished."  
  
"Sarah..."  
  
"Oh, if you insist," she twisted in his arms and wrapped her own around his neck, leaning up to whisper in his ear.  
  
And then she laughed. She couldn't help it. Jareth just looked so funny when he was shocked.  
  
"How...how do you know..."  
  
"Hetta," Sarah told him. "She pointed it out to me about twenty minutes before I left to lead the Nightmares into the throne room. I wanted to tell you a little earlier, but, well...we've been rather busy. What with the kingdom and all," she put in quickly, blushing again (just a tiny bit).   
  
Jareth's face darkened slightly. "You went into a battle knowing that you were-"  
  
"I had to," she cut him off. "The Nightmares would follow no one else."  
  
"Still, you could have-"  
  
"No. I couldn't. And there's no use getting upset about any of that now, is there? What's done is done."  
  
"Are you sure you didn't hurt-?"  
  
"Yes, I'm quite sure. I had Hetta check me out, she claims to be an expert on these matters, and she says we're both fine."  
  
"And you will stay that way," he told her sternly. "No more hanging from window ledges."  
  
"How did you know that?!"  
  
"Sarah, Sarah, did you really think I wouldn't notice someone dangling from my walls? It's rather...unusual, you know. Most people just use the door. But, you have always done things your way haven't you? Gave me a good scare, that fall. If you hadn't caught yourself, I would have gone out there and done it myself. And then I'd have locked you in the cellar." He smirked at her furious expression. "But since you did, I decided to let you have your fun for about an hour or so."  
  
Sarah felt distinctly cheated. She'd been proud of her little escape. And he'd been watching all along, letting her do it. She wanted to strangle him. But, in light of recent events (she still felt just a touch guilty about that fight right before the invasion...especially since he'd been right, damn it all.) she opted instead for a slightly disgruntled. "Oh, shut up."  
  
"As you wish, my queen."  
  
Pause.  
  
"Hmm." Sarah hummed thoughtfully.  
  
"What?"  
  
"I was just thinking. If it's a boy, I think we'll name him Jareth." She tilted back her head to look at him. "He'll have your eyes."  
  
"But your soul."  
  
"Lucky kid."  
  
"Just promise me you will take care." He laughed. "Of both of you."  
  
"I promise. But Jareth, you have to make a promise to me, too."  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"You're going to have to be very patient with me-I get the feeling pregnancy is going to make me less than agreeable."  
  
"I'll be hard pressed to tell the difference."  
  
"Jareth!"  
  
"I promise."  
  
And as the moon shone approvingly through the arched window, they sealed their promises with a heartfelt kiss.  
  
--------------------------------------Fin-------------------------------------  
  
"And now it is time to depart- for me to die and for you to live. But which of us is going to a better state is unknown to everyone but God."  
  
A giant thank you goes out to everyone who reviewed me. You are what makes posting all worth while. And special thanks to Amber- couldn't have done this without you, chica. Stay Tuned, readers. We're already planning another story in this particular plotline! Ciao.  
  
SkItZoFrEaK  



	11. Are you *sure* it really ended...?

  
Gentle breezes brushed through the open windows, carrying the thin morning mist on their shoulders. The cool mist crept over the floor stones and all throughout the room, curling into the cracks of the walls and doors like a probing cloud. Sarah murmured in her sleep, and rolled onto her side, flinging a hand out. The mist seemed to freeze, and then slowly curl into itself.  
  
But that is silly, mist is nebulous, formless, amorphous; all scientific fact declares that while a gas may turn into liquid or solid if temperature obliges...the temperature hadn't changed, it never did in summer in the Goblin King's Labyrinth. But then again, maybe this night, as the Queen lay sleeping, maybe it did become chilly.  
  
And then again, maybe it was much, much hotter. Who can say? No one was awake, and the King was away. Which is a pity, because had he been there, he most certainly would have woken when the mist whirled and solidified...but that is nonsense, too. Mist doesn't arbitrarily materialize into different shapes, and even if it had, the Goblin Queen still had her own particular brand of power; she herself would have felt anything that reeking in magic take shape in her rooms, not three feet from her bed. Or perhaps it was ten feet.   
  
Then again, maybe it wasn't there at all.   
  
Sarah woke the next morning to a bright, sunlit room. A light morning breeze flitted in from the window, brushed her cheek in a good-natured hello, and danced back out again. Sarah stretched and rolled out of bed to her feet, pausing only momentarily at the bureau to pick up her pendant and slip it over her head. Then she casually went off to bathe.  
  
Now, as reasonable, logical people, we know that if anything unusual had happened in her rooms last night, the instant she put her pendant on, she would have felt it, right?  
  
Of course.  
  
There is nothing to worry about.  
  
****************************  
Don't you just hate me?  



End file.
